Nothing is Whole, and Nothing is Broken
by Orin Drake
Summary: A place to park my random, unconnected Kingdom Hearts 2 ficlets, focusing more on the darker and philosophical side of things... spoilers and possible future YAOI warning.
1. No Sense of Humor

"No Sense of Humor" and the general concept of "No Sense of Humor" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: I decided to play with the assumption that Axel was from "our world". Or... an alternate reality of our world or... or, whatever the hell. As for the subject matter... I will say only this: I don't believe blasphemy is possible. In my little world, nothing sacred could ever be offended--and enjoys the challenges I must present at every opportunity.

No Sense of Humor  
by Orin Drake

It hadn't been any more than ten minutes since he'd gotten back from that infernal Castle Oblivion when Xigbar, wearing a wide smirk, had interrupted his private... homecoming celebration. "Hey. Superior wants to see you."

Admittedly, Axel had an uh-oh moment--not that he showed it. "How sweet of ol' Xemmy to want to welcome me home."

The freeshooter scoffed. "As if." Shaking his head, he merely walked away.

* * *

"Number Eight." Was the only greeting Xemnas granted, not bothering to turn away from watching the heart-shaped moon.

It took a great deal of self-control not to let his lips twist, not to return the "affection" shown to him. "You wanted to see me?"

"I wished to remind you." The silver-haired man glanced only once over his shoulder. "I do not want to see you behaving... smugly."

"Oh, no more than usual." Axel allowed himself, indulging in the venom he tried to keep controlled.

"You would do well to act in accordance with your number." The man warned as he finally turned fully around, sounding somewhere between perfectly calm and viciously dangerous.

"Me?" he did everything in his power to sound innocent... delighting a bit when he was certain he'd failed ever so slightly. "I've done nothing wrong, Superior."

There was far too much ease in the man's voice as he approached, slowly. "You are the only one to have survived."

"I'm just that good." He dared a smirk and a hand on his hip.

"Is that so." Xemnas almost seemed to ask before turning away again, apparently disinterested. "I would remind you that you are not in control. _I_ am the leader of the Organization. Of _all_ of you... _I_ will be the one with the power. _I_ will be the one to survive."

"Yeah." Axel feigned agreement, starting to walk away. "Jesus had twelve followers, too."

* * *

The next day found Axel shivering alone in his room, trying not to concentrate on the holes that had been drilled through his wrists. Xemnas... the guy just didn't have a sense of humor. 


	2. Maybe So

"Maybe So" and the general concept of "Maybe So" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: Yeah, well... this is my thought on the matter, anyway. Regardless of Xemnas' insistence that he was only _remembering_ emotions... he seemed awfully _desperate_ to be whole, didn't he..? (And yes, I personally thought that little conversation he had with our heroes at the end was... particularly enlightening for what remained unsaid. But I'm so _weird_ like that.)

Maybe So  
by Orin Drake

He'd been easily convinced that he didn't have a heart. After all, he was the very first Nobody. His heart had been _removed_ from him--it didn't take science or logic to tell him that such an event had left him entirely without a heart.

Staring out at Kingdom Hearts the night before it all fell down, however... a very simple thought managed to come to mind. Something that was laughably immature, absolutely stupid... something that perhaps would have come from the childhood mouth of his Other. And yet... why did it give him pause? Why would the very idea make him... cold..?

That was when he knew, really. There was no hope for him. Not to regain his own heart, nor bring about the true Kingdom Hearts. Even then he refused to acknowledge it completely; it was just too simple-minded, too disturbingly ridiculous...

And yet, as the Keyblade Masters bound together and he drew what quite _surprised_ him for being his final nonexistent breath... it echoed back at him. Really, now... it made as much sense as living in a world that didn't exist, didn't it?

Really... if Nobodies _didn't_ retain something of a heart, then... why would they strive to be whole?


	3. Run, Neophyte

"Run, Neophyte" and the general concept of "Run, Neophyte" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: Just kinda "happened" between other things I was writing. I think you can figure out whose thoughts they are.

Run, Neophyte  
by Orin Drake

He wondered if it was always the same for all Nobodies. Feeling their bodies fall away, torn to shreds as their hearts were wrest from them--but what followed was not death. Was not peace. Was only darkness and cold without familiar sensation... and vast, hollow memories.

He wondered if they all felt like they were trapped in a nightmare world of nothingness for millennia before they woke. And, even then... Even then.

He wondered if anyone else, oh so secretly, felt... lonely. Not just alone, but... alone in the kind of way that made your _heart_ ache.

He wondered if the others weren't secretly uncertain. What _made_ a heart..? And even though it was gone, even though his emotions were fogged and far away... why could _he_ still _feel_? Were the other members all hiding something..?

He wondered if anyone had ever caught him rolling his eyes. It was hard to play dumb when one was caught rolling their eyes.

He wondered where the music came from if not his heart. They weren't all from memory...

He wondered if anyone else ever got punished as harshly. As constantly. Really, he wouldn't be surprised... though either answer to his question wouldn't have made him feel any better.

He wondered if any of the other members, upon seeing a new one in their midst, had the innate desire to scream at them, "Run! Run away! Don't listen! Don't trust them!"

He wondered if, even if he could allow himself to scream the words, anyone would listen.


	4. He'd Like to Believe

"He'd Like to Believe" and the general concept of "He'd Like to Believe" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: I really have no idea what this is, exactly... or where it came from. It just kinda wrote itself. I think the characters are perfectly open to interpretation... but personally... it feels to me like Xemnas and Saix. What does it mean? What happened? Where does it fit? ...If I knew, it would probably be longer.

He'd Like to Believe  
by Orin Drake

Blood. Everywhere. Pooled around him... cooling over his skin... He must have fallen, must have... collapsed or...

A horrified sound, somewhere in the edges of his consciousness. Then words, feathering around his own heartbeat. Over... and over... "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean to... I... Sorry. I'm sorry..."

Didn't mean to..? To _what_? He didn't really... feel anything. Some cold and some aching, but... pain didn't seem to be a part of it... At least, not until he tried to move. Then pain surged through his entire body in white hot bolts, pain with the power to split and rend and tear. But it didn't. It never did.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

That was not a loving touch over his shoulders, no. It was the mimicry of one... the empty gesture. Just like the lying apologies. He allowed it, though; not that he could do anything else. If he had the strength, he'd have pushed those hands away. Or so he'd like to believe


	5. It Was Stupid

"It Was Stupid" and the general concept of "It Was Stupid" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: I had planned this to be serious. It started out being serious, but... then I... apparently ignored the seriousness. So this one is just kinda _weird_. Hence the title.

It Was Stupid  
by Orin Drake

_It never used to be this way_, he noted mentally as he watched from his perch high up on the castle. The whiny musician was running around and screeching in the courtyard, followed closely by that redhead with the big mouth apparently trying to engage him in a "battle". Idiots, just idiots. Playing around like that...

Xigbar couldn't really help but be intrigued by the behavior, though. It was familiar, certainly... but from an uncomfortably vast distance. He recalled some things from the life of his Other, but not much in the way of specifics. He remembered some of the sights and sounds of childhood, but felt nothing attached to them. No names, or faces, or emotions.

He also vaguely remembered the beginning days of the Organization. When it was just the six of them and they discovered that they knew... nothing. So scared... except for Xemnas. He was the one to inform them that they did not feel at all. Though... Xigbar had always found it interesting that the Superior felt it necessary to use means of pain to drive his point home. No one brought that to his attention, though... not more than once.

It was stupid, he could certainly admit it. Not out loud, and sure as _hell_ not in front of Xemnas, but... the whole Organization thing... was stupid. And those damn coats, goddamn _uniforms_... where had those come from, exactly..? Not that it mattered. It still wasn't his "thing". Must have been Xemnas' total lack of fashion sense to blame. The man had the oddest obsession with crazy patterns, too.

Marluxia had been the one to point out the Superior's gaudy taste... and, as Xigbar recalled, The Graceful Assassin had shortly afterward run to his room in tears and mumbling something about the color pink not being an indication of anything. Everyone had laughed then, of course, not quite realizing just how hurt Marluxia had been. Another strike against the theory they had no hearts..?

It was stupid to think about in the first place. The freeshooter was almost embarrassed about letting his mind wander in those directions. Especially when it was much more fun to shoot at the two nobodies still chasing one another below.


	6. Ceasing Fear

"Ceasing Fear" and the general concept of "Ceasing Fear" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.  
Background: No idea. It was just a thought. And it was all written in less than half an hour, which is just amazing for me. So, proof I am not a Kairi-hater--she just really, really got on my nerves in the first game. grin

Ceasing Fear  
by Orin Drake

Softly shining lips barely parted to speak more lies--but I would not let her. It was my hand over her mouth, my pain and rage and stupid quick thinking that only took me as far as to stop her from talking that made her eyes go wide with surprise... and maybe something we shared in that moment after her words: fear. It wasn't the first time I'd seen that look in Kairi's eyes... and that made it so much worse.

I jerked away with some mumbled apology, disgusted with myself. But more, with what she had been trying to say to me. I got up to run, to take off and hide for a little while--

Damn her. She'd grown up some. We all did, but... she'd also lost the rest of her timidness. And gained some muscles, apparently--she clung to my arm and yanked me back to the ground so I couldn't escape, bright eyes swimming in concern rather than fear. With a voice so soft, so genuine... "Riku..."

"Don't." I must have sounded pathetic. I couldn't even look at her... and I didn't have the strength to yank my arm away.

"It's true, though." She whispered, her voice trembling a little.

So I felt even more like shit. Fuck. I didn't make her cry, did I? "I'm sorry..."

"Riku!" she cried, sounding angry.

I forced myself to look up, prepared to find hatred in her gaze--but all I was met with was a raw honesty in her eyes. Like she believed what she'd said absolutely. Like it was... true...

"He does." She continued, pleadingly. "I know he does, Riku. And you love him, too."

I tried to pull my arm back, but she would have none of it. I'm sure I could have dragged her around for days if I'd felt so inclined to put us both through that kind of torture. Even as the words came from my mouth, they burned; shredded my heart along with my lips. "We're... just friends."

"Stop it!" That time she _was_ angry, and loud enough to obviously not care who heard. "Hasn't it ever occurred to you that I've seen how the two of you look at each other when one of your backs is turned? That maybe I've _heard the confession_ from both of you without the words spoken? Dammit, Riku! I just want you both to be happy! And you'll never be that if you both don't _swallow your fucking pride and admit it_!"

My jaw must have hit the sand. There were... so many things about what she'd just told me that had shocked me to the core... Unfortunately, I was only able to point out one. "Wow. You cursed."

She glared at me until I was sure she was actually going to punch me--then finally started giggling. "You moron."

I let myself laugh a little along with her. If... she was right... then...

My thoughts were broken by the too-familiar crunch of too-large shoes on the sand behind us. Sora's voice was full of laughter. "Geez, Kairi! I heard you all the way from the shore!"

She blushed. So did I.


	7. Windows to the Soul

"Windows to the Soul" and the general concept of "Windows to the Soul" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: The tiny fragment of a moment's thought...

Windows to the Soul  
by Orin Drake

Those eyes in the dark. Sora remembered... or maybe they were only nightmares. Sometimes... it was hard to tell.

So many eyes, really. Riku's and Kairi's were really the only eyes he'd ever thoroughly searched, before... before he left the island. They were both pretty in their own way, both inspiring protective things in him. But, back then... he'd seen them as simply eyes.

Eyes were the window to the soul, or so he'd heard. He didn't understand that until his journey had begun, taking him far away from familiar gazes. Until he was forced to tell the difference between hurtful and friendly by a glance. And then when he'd seen Kairi's eyes so... empty. When Riku's eyes were so... angry.

It was a glowing amber gaze that really made him understand. Stuff of nightmares. Horror. The very symbol of lives destroyed, worlds torn apart. Suffering. Rage. Cold, cruel... Darkness. The windows of madness. And he'd seen them... through Riku. All of the constants in his life... had been shattered.

Later, he remembered... later, when Riku's eyes had been merely hidden behind the mask of that same amber... he hadn't understood. Kairi's words to him seemed ridiculous, "Talk to him." He'd thought himself talking to an element of the very plague that had caused so much agony for all of them--until he closed his eyes...

He recalled--far too clearly and more often than he honestly cared to--Roxas' eyes, as well. That fight had been in his mind, a battle in his head, but... he could never forget. They were _his_ eyes, and yet they _weren't_--and, in hindsight, that hurt. Sometimes when Sora dreamed... it was nothing but memories of Roxas looking into fierce green eyes... and it always ended in the nightmare of those eyes fading away.

"Ssssh, Sora..." that soft voice behind him, warm body pressing closer to ease his shivering. He knew that if he turned, he'd see aqua-marine behind a curtain of silver... but he couldn't find it in himself to look.

_Do you see _him _looking back at you sometimes?_ he wanted to ask. He never did. Roxas wouldn't have wanted an answer... and Sora himself didn't want to invite the possibilities of what may come after.


	8. Sacrifice

"Sacrifice" and the general concept of "Sacrifice" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: I had been wondering why Demyx would have been tossed out to the slaughter when he was... so I guess I asked Xemnas. grin You might need to have read Heart and Soul to understand the reference about the rain...

Sacrifice  
by Orin Drake

Orders written by Xemnas' own hand, given over to Xigbar to deliver. The Superior was always pleased with his second's lack of desire to look at the cards... though it was of curiosity as to whether or not the man actually gave a damn where orders were concerned. So long as they all followed instructions, it likely didn't matter.

It was time for the boy to die. Number Nine was too dangerous, too unstable. Too... real.

That evening in the rain... Xemnas had been watching Nine and Eight together... that was what finally drove him to his decision. They looked like they were experiencing... _emotion_. That filthy tangle of _impurities_ that would take his dream away from him. Perhaps when they had their hearts restored, they may be allowed to experience such things... but not at the expense of _his_ Kingdom Hearts.

Nevermind the distant ache and burn that rolled through the interior of his chest when he watched them lay in the street. When he heard the musician sing for the first time, or when the firestarter had removed every barrier that separated their flesh... it came too close to making Xemnas feel poisoned. Polluted by whatever illusions the other two embraced.

He needed Eight to draw Sora in. And if Eight's only other anchor was removed... he would be all the more desperate to draw the Keyblade Master closer. Yes, that could do well.

And then there was the risk that came with allowing the Melodious Nocturne to live and infect others with his ridiculous notions. The boy was just too... alive. Too close to behaving as if he had a heart. And, simply... he was ripe for the sacrifice. It was a shame, really... he was amusing insofar as one without emotions could be amused. In a sad sort of way, perhaps.


	9. Obsession

"Obsession" and the general concept of "Obsession" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: It turned out quite a bit darker and filled with more innuendo than I'd realized while writing it. In other words... neat-o! (And yes, I admit--while I've never managed to get a hold of _Chain of Memories_, I do actually read the game script from time to time. ...Yes, the whole script. Yes, every once in a while. Look, that's how I do things. grin Zexion is a bit hard to grasp given only his lines and actions in the game... but looking at his character artwork, I can seriously relate to that bitchy little cross-armed frown. ...Ahem. My point... I found Zexion a bit tragic. But I bet that comes as no surprise.)

Obsession  
by Orin Drake

As incomplete beings, they were imperfect. Sometimes they reminisced. It was ridiculous, useless and utterly destructive, but... they had been human once. It was a part of all of them, no matter how hard they may try to deny it. The memories were still there, swimming in the background until triggered or called forward.

Zexion had the unfortunate first-hand knowledge of smells being able to trigger memories exceptionally easily. He was usually quite good at suppressing them before they could truly take hold, but... sometimes... there were smells he couldn't even properly label that would spark something uncontrollable from the life of his Other.

He'd been a "smart kid", Ienzo. Precocious, eager to read and learn and ask questions. Especially the questions people usually seemed uncomfortable about answering. A thirst for knowledge and a memory like a library had lead him to seek out Ansem the Wise, a man who in turn was intrigued by the boy who was both incredibly learned and yet still so naive in the ways of life.

They'd all had hearts, once. All of Ansem's elder assistants had taken him in like their little brother. Sometimes it was an obnoxious curse--but most times it came as an enormous blessing. So much to learn and so many people to teach him; when one's patience had run out, there was always another.

He always studied, observed, _absorbed_--and when it finally seemed that there were questions no one could answer, he began to ask for the means to answer them himself. No longer a mere timid boy, he had finally been ready to seek solutions first-hand; and so he had requested a lab. The others supported him, thought it a brilliant idea and congratulated him on it. Even Ansem had approved... and the boy had been elated.

There is an unfortunate thing that happens when one becomes obsessed, however: they focus only on their obsession. They all had their own personal ones, all revolving around the mysteries of the heart. Ienzo, however... he merely thirsted for _knowledge_. Of any kind. By any means. He had been a blind idiot. Any and all indications of finally going "too far", of stepping over the threshold from which one could never return... were either missed entirely, or ignored. He couldn't remember which. Nor did he care to. Somewhere along the way... they'd been lost.

As a Nobody... well, everyone changed. Without an emotional core, the sense of their former selves began to fade. Ideas like "morality" had been dropped long ago... and sometimes he had to admit to wondering what those sorts of things had ultimately invited upon them.

Sometimes, when most of the others were away on missions and the castle was far too quiet, he wondered what Ienzo would think of what Zexion had become.

No. Ienzo would not have liked him very much.


	10. Protective

"Protective" and the general concept of "Protective" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: Just a little bitty mental image I got earlier. Had to write it down.

Protective  
by Orin Drake

She was _livid_. Clearly so. Her delicate features were the only soft things about her--those narrowed eyes, sharp look and balled fists screamed volumes.

Sora gulped. Riku dared to take a quick step backward. ...Oops.

"_What_ did you _do_?" Kairi hissed at them both, barely contained.

Very subtly, Sora changed his stance to make a quick break for it. Or so he hoped it was subtle. He was pretty sure he would need to quite literally run for his life. With a deep breath and every single ounce of courage he had in him, he dared to ask, "What do you mean?"

She didn't even wait for his whole question, fists clenched impossibly tighter. "I _mean_, why did my suddenly pale boyfriend just show up at my house and apologize for not being able to see me anymore before he _ran away_?"

"Oh, that..." The gears in Riku's head were spinning double-time--and still coming up short of an explanation that would keep them both alive. "He's crazy."

_How_ Sora managed to keep his palm from coming up and slapping his own forehead, he would never understand. "What he means is... um... see--"

"Is there _any reason_ why you had to _scare off_ the _third boyfriend this year_?" Kairi interrupted.

"We didn't scare him off!" Sora defended.

"Yeah." Riku jumped in. "We were just... giving him dating tips."

"Dating tips." The girl nearly snarled.

Both boys took another mild step back. Sora cleared his throat and attempted to think fast. "Look, he just... he wasn't right for you."

Kairi's lips formed a tight line as she stared down those increasingly frightened blue eyes. "And how did you make that assumption this time?"

Riku knew Sora was in trouble. He would have to do the unthinkable--blurt out the truth. "He's a nose-picker."

The silence that followed was quite possibly the most frightening thing the boys had ever lived through. There was absolutely no reaction on their friend's part, not so much as a blink as she attempted to absorb the information.

What could have been either minutes or hours later, Kairi finally let her fists unclench before letting out her breath in a slow sigh. "Okay, fine. I guess that's valid."

"Yeah." Sora tried to be comforting as his heart still pounded with fight-or-flight (mostly _flight_) adrenaline. "You don't want a bunch of little nose-pickers, do you?"

Finally the girl cracked a smile--but slapped him perhaps a little too hard in the arm. "Next time will you both just _tell_ me before you run _another_ one off, _please_?"

"We've only ever had good reasons." Riku assured, feeling a little better about taking a step forward--both to comfort Kairi and to protect Sora from another hit on the arm he was obviously trying not to rub and whimper about. "You can't date a guy that keeps greeting people by pointing at them and saying, 'Heeeeyyy', either."

She rolled her eyes and sighed again, turning to go home. "Alright, we've been over that."

"Or one who doesn't like ice cream." Sora added quietly. "What kind of a freak would rather eat _frozen yogurt_?"

"You have made your points, thank you."


	11. Peace of Mind

"Peace of Mind" and the general concept of "Peace of Mind" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: Cool, dark fall days do something to me. Plus all of the _KH2:FM_/_ReCOM_ news and lengthy philosophical conversations I've had recently... oh yeah.

Peace of Mind  
by Orin Drake

The universe had no right to saddle two boys with the responsibility of holding it together. Two dreamers, full of wonder and innocence, shown every last horror in the nature of existence--and expected to live with them all.

Guilt. Shame. Heartbreak. Misery. Confusion and aching and longing... So mixed up. Involved in things even world-weary immortals had never seen.

There were snide remarks. "Can't go home again, anyway." Sora might have reacted with a shrugged kind of half-smile in soft disagreement... but Riku, even at his most beaten down, spat a vibrant, "And what happens when _you're_ responsible for your home and everyone you've ever loved being destroyed?"

Not a question easily answered. There were quite a lot of those questions. "What happens to a Nobody who never finds their heart?" was one of Sora's--surprisingly as much Sora's as it was Roxas'. He only gave voice to such a notion on those chill fall nights where loneliness, despite how many people loved and supported him, took hold like a tangible thing. And then, suddenly, so did Riku--he'd always wrap the boy in his arms and find himself without words, throat closing with the sharp pain as he tried to hold back his emotion. Seeing Sora with even the least bit of sadness... it wasn't right. No universe that would do these things to young boys was _right_.

Kairi had relegated herself to watching. Like some guardian, some archaic temple figure standing above a door to make any would-be intruders think twice before stepping on sacred ground. Admittedly, she could only share so much of what the Keyblade Masters did--and perhaps, as others had danced around but never quite stated, she should be glad for it. Instead, it hurt her more; there was only so much she could say to comfort her best friends before they had to take their leave... and she knew Namine's memories. The horrible things that had happened to the Nobodies in those castles... she could truly only imagine what may have befallen the two boys.

Namine and Roxas found some degree of comfort in one another, but really... it wasn't quite the same. She knew he was missing someone. Maybe multiple someones in different ways--either way, he was missing. Longing. Waiting beneath the surface, constantly wondering. It wasn't that he couldn't find long moments of happiness, it was simply that he hated them sometimes. They were so easily brushed aside.

Even if they all found comfort in one another... that was only one happy ending in a field of remarkably sad ones. Painful, the likes of which no creature of any age or world should ever have to understand. Let alone endure.

The most painful part, though... the thing that remained unspoken and yet lurking over them all... if--and more likely _when_--their help was asked again, they would not hesitate to do so. At any price, any cost; because no one else should ever endure it. Chalk it up to strong hearts or pitifully loyal determination... but they would lose themselves defending the universe that tried to tear them apart rather than let these things happen to another. Peace of mind... was meant for other people.


	12. Storm

"Storm" and the general concept of "Storm" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: Not sure where it came from. It rained damn hard last night, and maybe that has something to do with it. I'm starting to be just a little afraid of the Demyx in my head. ...But in a fond kind of way. It's a kind of broken I understand.

Storm  
by Orin Drake

There were some days when the vast majority of Nobodies simply got the insatiable urge to be elsewhere. It was like a ripple moved through them all--the initial droplet irritating the surface nearly always being Demyx by no small surprise. He got... "antsy", or so he insisted. Stranger still, no one really thought to question it.

Axel, a Nobody too full of motion to really understand the stillness that one could get bored of, rather appreciated walking around in an empty castle. There wasn't much of a challenge in looking through everyone's "private things" when there was no danger of being caught, though. When he'd grown quite disinterested in all of the nonsense books and notes and ridiculous personal items of days long turned to ash, he stepped out onto the large balcony atop one of the lower towers. It was a stunning view of the dead city, black and bright neon glittering even moreso in the steady drizzle.

--But that wasn't what drew the firestarter's eye. He caught the motion before he saw the telltale shape and color of the weapon coming down upon a group of Heartless. Again and again, swinging, crushing--a ballet of carnage with no flourish and no blood. No art, no music; merely tearing frustration. Never had he seen Demyx so... so...

Axel heard the hiss of a dark portal open behind him, a little too entranced by what he was watching to turn. Footsteps came right up next to him... and then Xigbar's chuckle upon seeing what was drawing all of the attention. "Kid's got a lot of rage in 'im."

The redhead raised an eyebrow at that, finally glancing over. When he got no further response, he pushed, "What do you mean?"

Number II smirked, gaze still locked on the killing figure in the rain. "Rage... it keeps a person alive, sometimes." He remembered. So vividly that he could almost taste the emotion. The irony of the words seemed as distant as a sunrise, somehow.

That... hadn't really answered the question. And yet Axel didn't really want to delve further.

* * *

Earlier that day, Demyx had caught the gunman sitting on another balcony, staring with a rather annoyed expression at the rest of the dark world. The kid sat, as he usually did, without invitation. The regular back and forth of slightly awkward conversation, the quips which made the musician huff and insist that he did too have a heart. It was all very "normal".

Right up until one of Demyx's longer silences shattered by his own soft voice. "I think... the longer we're Nobodies... the more we can't feel." Not that he expected a response--not even so much as an arguing word or a grunt--but when he got a blank-staring silence from the man beside him... he grew a bit concerned. "Xigbar..?"

Another moment passed, the stillness trickling down like stinging poison. At last there was one word, forced and cold. "Yeah." The freeshooter nearly whispered, though not in answer to his name.

There was again a long, almost painful moment where no one moved and nothing was said. Xigbar hadn't really planned to speak to begin with, but he found the desire to express oddly hard to deny. "Xemnas... he's been a Nobody longer than all of us." The rest remained unspoken. It was too dangerous to so much as suggest. You did not question the motives of the Superior... and you certainly didn't suggest anything other than perfect loyalty.

Demyx had reacted by complete and total non-reaction. Not a nod, not a blink--not a single indication he'd even heard. It would come later. Sometimes it took a while for a storm to hit.


	13. Won't Let Go

"Won't Let Go" and the general concept of "Won't Let Go" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: I could never explain, I don't think. It's... poignant and personal in too many ways.

Won't Let Go  
by Orin Drake

It's okay to laugh. And it's okay to cry. Sometimes it's okay to do both at the same time... because that's all that can be done in that moment.

It's a cold night, but Riku convinced Sora to venture with him to the island. Maybe "convinced" isn't the right word--more like, Riku ran and Sora followed. Riku hadn't run from _him_--never really had, truth be told--but the fact he'd run at all meant only that Sora was to follow by necessity. The brunette had faced too many obstacles to give up so easily.

Something had happened. Details did not matter in the least; obviously someone had said or done something with the intent to remind Riku of the darker portions of his past... that was enough to go on. Sora finds the older boy slumped against the wall, just inside the Secret Place, and so many things within them both ache.

Some people would likely tell Sora to stop following. To let Riku go off by himself because he ran so damn often that it was clear he wanted to be on his own. That maybe he liked manipulating Sora by making him follow. But the younger Keyblade Master knew better than those who spoke too freely of things they could never hope--nor want--to understand.

Sora wraps his arms around Riku's quivering form. Others would be afraid of the action, afraid they'd get punched in the face or drawn and quartered by a Keyblade. As others _should_ be cautious--but not Sora. Never Sora.

Holding Riku is like trying to hold a wild, scared and foaming animal in his hands--hands that are already scarred by teeth and claws and endless kinds of tangible pain as the creature panicked and struggled and blindly tried to _get away_ because that was the only instinct that broke the surface. But it's... it's so much deeper than that. The wild thing in his grasp does not have any intent to harm--it merely has no other recourse. It knows not what to do with its own emotions, with the gifts it's been given. Riku is a beautiful creature, of splendor and grace... but he cannot believe that of himself. He stumbles and then blames himself until he falls.

Sora can feel his own shoulders start to shake with the thought. No matter his reassurances, or Kairi's, or the countless thankful that had learned of Riku's part in Sora's awakening... the silver-haired boy remained a little damaged. Cracked, but not broken. And Sora knew that sometimes... that was almost far worse.

Riku finally reaches up to wrap his arms around Sora's, feeling a fool to be crying. Again. He knows he's supposed to be strong and solid, supposed to be a _man_. But all he feels is that cocky little boy he may have once been, completely beaten by the Darkness he tried to control. Someone who has no right to be around those that he loves... those that he tried to hurt, once upon a time.

And Sora knows. He can't put it into words, but he _knows_. Somehow holding each other is enough. Maybe not forever, but for now... for this moment... it's the holding on that's the most important thing. _Holding on_. And Sora lets a few tears come. He cries because it hurts to remember, sometimes. But he laughs and he smiles because of everything they managed to hold on to. And regardless of the pain--regardless of those moments of brilliantly blinding hatred that he will never admit even to himself--he'd never wish it to have been any other way. The wild creature in his arms may well one day maul him with a panic risen higher than ever before... but he is this creature's to tear apart. And this creature is still his to hold. He won't let go.


	14. Impolite

"Impolite" and the general concept of "Impolite" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: I don't know. It just made me laugh. Poor Luxord.

Impolite  
by Orin Drake

Axel and Xigbar, not normally two individuals to _ever_ agree upon something, did in fact find one common truth: Luxord was fun to mess with. The guy was just meticulous about being suave, presentable at all times... and clean. That was just too easy.

* * *

Back early from a more meticulous mission, Luxord was feeling quite ready for a long rest. Perhaps some sleep followed by some alcohol... followed by more sleep, and then back to routine. The mere thought of winning more munny from Xigbar brought a smile to his lips.

But then, so did sleep. Rest. Soft bed. Fine silk between himself and the very high thread count sheets. A little piece of paradise.

--Or it should have been. Pulling open his small but immaculate wardrobe revealed... that he was going to have to kill someone.

* * *

They were aware it was far, far too casual--suspicious, really--that they were both in the library, at the same time, "reading". Axel and Xigbar were also both very well aware that it was surprisingly hard to keep perfectly boring faces, staring at text that made no sense.

The door opened with a growl and clapped against the wall hard enough to sound like thunder. Luxord wore what could only be described as a calm snarl on his face as he stalked toward where the others sat. He wasn't _angry_, of course... just... irritated. Remarkably, undeniably... irritated. Regardless, he attempted to keep his tone neutral, producing a small plastic bag of "evidence" to the soon-to-be-accused. "What... _what_ is _this_?"

"Dragon shit." Xigbar offered without looking up. It was hard--so very, unbelievably hard--not to point and laugh, or give Axel a high-five to celebrate their combined effort. It had taken a pretty creative series of dark tunnels to get all of that into Luxord's fancy closet-thing.

A beat. Luxord blinked as he absorbed the information. "_What?!_"

"D-R-A-G-O-N." Axel spelled slowly, grin growing wider with every vein that stuck out on Luxord's neck. "S-H-I-T. Got it memor--"

Numbers II and VIII found themselves enormously grateful for learned physical responses. A storm of oversized cards sliced the air above their ducked heads, Luxord's rage-filled cry behind them. Maybe Demyx had a point with all that "we can feel" crap. They could try to figure it out once they stopped running.


	15. Words

"Words" and the general concept of "Words" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: I wanted to write something from Axel's point of view. And... this is what happened. It's intended to be vague, asking many more questions than it answers... maybe a few too many. grin

Words  
by Orin Drake

He had doll hands. Perfect and delicate and pale and beautiful... but strong, too. Holding immense power. He had perfectly sculpted, perfectly formed, elegant, beautiful hands. That's why I had to break them all to pieces.

Words are weapons. I learned that long ago. Words can empower or they can completely destroy--and a handful of well-placed words can shift the whole tide of All That Is. ...Or All That Isn't.

He had soul. Argue if you must--but the fucker had _heart_, too. He was perfect. He was _fucking perfect_... and I could never touch that. Never _be_ that. To touch would have been to soil; to lay my filthy, massive, disgusting hands on butterfly wings.

A handful of words. Can change everything.

"I don't love you."


	16. Turning Back

"Turning Back" and the general plot of Turning Back is copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters and the world contained within belongs to Square-Enix and Disney. And they seem to own me, too. I am their bitch, apparently.

Background: Dealing with some stuff. And then this idea popped into my head and I just had to write it. Yay catharsis. Let's just say... I feel disturbingly close to Riku sometimes, and delving deeper into his mind is always an interesting thing. Poor kid. Heh. I think you might be able to call this angst-sap. ...Until you pay a little more attention. Then it's just a little painful.

Turning Back  
by Orin Drake

It was the understanding, compassionate, perfectly loving smiles that drove him away. He could have dealt with them hating him, or even not being able to look at him in some half-conscious effort to avoid the subject entirely. But those accepting eyes... he couldn't handle that.

Didn't they remember what he'd _done_? The choices he'd made that very nearly tore all aspects of the fucking _universe_--nevermind just their lives and their friendship and their _own world_--_apart_?! There couldn't be that much honest love in all of existence... it was wrong. It wasn't real. Wasn't anything that he deserved. The casual thanks of the villagers on the mainland didn't hurt nearly as much, didn't cut as deep as casual laughter and teases from... friends. Like nothing happened that couldn't be fixed.

_He_ couldn't be fixed. He was a battered toy, finally cast aside and barely able to stand on his own legs.

He _hadn't_ stood on his own legs.

He gave them both a mild smirk--what passed for the replacement of his old smug grin--and wished them an early goodnight. He was just tired, he'd said. Just a long day and maybe he was getting sick, he insisted. Had to rest. So he could see them in the morning.

* * *

He was just untying the boat from the dock when he heard the soft voice behind him. "Riku."

With perfect, practiced motions, he turned and sort of smiled and pretended to be innocent. Rope in his hands, boat at his side in the dark of night. Having snuck out of his house to get there, using each and every one of the skills he'd learned during the journey to pass quickly and quietly through the dark without leaving a trace.

But of course Sora would be able to track him. Sora knew--and when their eyes met, Sora's were trying so hard to hide their horror and sorrow. If he hadn't stayed up, if he hadn't had the urge to take a walk along the beach... he may never have suspected. And just the thought of letting his best friend slip through his fingers...

Riku swallowed at the look in the younger boy's eyes. It was heart-wrenching... which was almost funny, in a vaguely disgusting kind of way. "Hey." He greeted like he still retained his old cockiness, voice artificially steady.

Sora's throat closed for a moment, seeing each and every thing about the situation that had gone horribly, achingly _wrong_. He swallowed, urged his voice to work, ignored the burning behind his eyes and tried so hard to unclench his fists. The words came out far deeper and more softly than he'd intended. "What're you doing, Riku?"

"Goin' fishin'." He responded just as naturally as he could, forcing the words, forcing the fake laughter and feeling his stomach clench painfully. _Don't make me say good-bye..._

"You're running." Whispered realization.

When Riku _didn't_ hear accusation in Sora's tone, he turned back to the boat. "I... I can't stay here. I don't belong."

"That's not true..." So soft, just a rush of breath...

He knew if he didn't do it right then, he'd never find the strength again. He'd get caught up in blind hope, in the ridiculous faith that maybe things might ever be okay. He tossed the rope into the boat, grasping the side and readying to cast off--

Sora grabbed his wrist. He hadn't even known he'd stepped forward that quickly, but the solid feel of Riku's wrist in his hand gave him strength. "That's not true." He repeated, more confidently. "This is..."

"Not home." Riku finished, almost inaudibly. The truth of his statement shook him--and he was not the only one if the slackened grip on his wrist was any indication. His teeth clenched as he winced, realizing... "I... I can't stay, Sora." His eyes closed tightly against the world, a false edge of laughter drowning in the words. "I'll just wind up destroying everything. I don't deserve this."

Instead of letting go, the grasp on the older boy's wrist only renewed. "_How_ can you _think_ that?! Riku, you _saved_ us! You helped to save _everything_!"

"I was also part of the destruction." He hissed, trying to yank his hand away--but being unable. Despite his strength and Sora's smaller stature, they were just about evenly matched. Unless the younger boy was feeling extra righteous, that was. "I fucked up."

"We _all_ did at some point." He stared, hard, waiting for the aqua-marine gaze to meet his own. Finally Riku looked at him, and he sighed with the broken look his eyes held. "But it's all forgiven--"

"I don't _want_ to be _forgiven_." The older boy growled, finally yanking his wrist away with the intensity of his words.  
"It's not _about_ that!" Sora shouted, willing himself to be angry... but failing. "Riku... it's not... what you're taking it to mean."  
"I don't even know what I mean." He sighed raggedly, staring out to sea.

"We love you, Riku." The words were a rush of consciousness; he hadn't planned them, hadn't even quite been thinking them... but when they were met with a surprised silence, Sora tried to find the courage to keep speaking. "It's true. Kairi and I... we _understand_, dammit."

"You love a memory." Riku whispered, his voice cracking. He was no longer anything like that cocky little bastard he'd once been. And he may never be able to return to that.

Sora grasped his wrist again--more gently, that time. He tugged, turning the older boy's body until they were facing one another. He didn't care that he was shaking with the fear that he'd already lost his best friend, with the rage he felt toward himself for letting it happen; he just needed to speak. "No, Riku. We love _you_. As what you are now. And what you will be. We're _friends_. That doesn't end because someone makes a mistake."

"It was a big damn mistake." He countered, not quite managing to glare down at the younger boy. He remembered... the things that were said and done... There was no erasing those.

"Look, Riku..." Sora took a breath, dropping his head as though it were just too heavy for him. With all the things swirling in it, it might well have been. "We don't... want you to change, if that's what you're thinking. Do you know what I went through the find you? I didn't do it because I thought I could change you back to what you used to be! I... You're _Riku_. Your heart... will always be the same. And that's all I needed to know. I wish you'd understand that."

The older boy felt a burning is his throat, his lungs. "You don't... you can't know... You can't mean that, Sora..."

"I do!" he half-shouted, fists suddenly clenching in Riku's shirt as he met the other boy's eyes with all the fierceness of a battle to come. "Do you know how worried we've been? How much it hurts when you walk off by yourself and we have to pretend _not_ to be worried or we'd only wind up worrying each other more? Do you have any idea how crushed Kairi would be if you took off in the night and we never saw you again? And... and I wouldn't..." He looked away, clearing his throat and finally letting go, hands falling limply to his sides. "I know you... you're not one to stay in one place by choice. I understand that. But... I'd really like it if... you'd think of this as home. And come back once in a while."

Riku's breath caught painfully. He felt as if he'd just been punched in the gut... but there was warmth, too. After a moment of trying to breathe, he finally managed to whisper, "Do you mean that? Even with... even with the Darkness that's still inside me..?"

Sora nodded, unable to look up just then. So stupid... he was so emotional and childish and... "Darkness is just... the other side of Light, right?"

He wasn't sure he liked where that was going... but Riku made a sound of acknowledgment. It wasn't all dark inside, anymore. But, sometimes... he felt it more.

"Friends share." Sora finally managed to raise his head with a timid smile. "So... if you share your Darkness with us, we'll share our Light with you."

He was scared. Gods but he was terrified--it'd been so easy to give into the Darkness that first time... but he'd learned so much since then. As had Sora, and even Kairi; not to mention the knowledge that their Nobodies imparted when they'd been joined. They all knew the signs to watch for... and had the strength and skill to stop things before they started. Somewhere... somewhere in the depths of his being... he felt that almost unfamiliar confident smirk rush to the surface. "Yeah." He responded, stomach fluttering in an entirely different way. "But if it's anything like the way you usually 'share', Kairi and I are gonna have to chase you around and fight to get anything."

The sheer shock of the words caused a moment of slack-jawed silence--right before Sora delighted in the laughter that roared through him so naturally. "Hey! Them's fightin' words!"

Good. Good. It felt good, right? That was what the warmth spreading through him was... it'd been a while. That time on the beach after Xemnas... it felt like a million lifetimes ago. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Sora immediately put on a "serious" face. "I think I'll have to challenge you to some button mashing video game insanity. At Kairi's house!"

That idea rattled an unexpected chuckle from Riku. "Oh she'll love that."

"She doesn't have a choice!" the younger boy cried out joyfully. "Last one there has to... has to wake her up! Ha!" And with that, he turned and tore off across the sand.

Riku shook his head, wondering just what the hell had happened... and how Sora was always able to bring about the impossible. He gave a lingering glance back to the sea... then followed.


	17. Wild

"Wild" and the general concept of "Wild" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: I really wanted to explore Roxas through the eyes of the other Organization members... not sure how well I succeeded, though.

Wild  
by Orin Drake

Roxas was like a curse dropped in their midst. The boy seemed so fragile at first glance, a perfect victim. It was a mistaken assumption which was not repeated.

Well, not often, anyway. Out of all of their group, it was only Axel who could fully appreciate the tightly-wound time bomb that was Number XIII. He was unpredictable at times, stark, and always a challenge. Simply put, the boy was a perfect amusement.

Xemnas merely kept Roxas around because of his obvious use. The Nobody of the Keyblade Master... it made some plans easier. Complicated others--but so long as no one managed to spill the big secret, the Superior couldn't find it in him to be all that concerned.

Xigbar couldn't resist being an ass to the kid, but never once did Roxas give him the satisfaction of pretending to be offended. II was kind of like a mean, distant older brother... sort of. He meant no direct harm... usually.

Xaldin didn't seem to mind either way, surprisingly focused on things besides Organization politics. He would nod if he passed XIII in the hallways, or even mutter the occasional greeting, but otherwise... it simply wasn't any deeper. Besides chanced passing in hallways and the occasional spar when no one else seemed available, they may as well not have belonged in the same organization at all.

Vexen cared only for the purposes of science... and perhaps some desire to cut the boy up just to see what might be inside. That much was no secret to Roxas, however--and he stayed away. There were enough rumors about the "mad scientist" that had turned out to be true.

Lexaeus was very careful not to make statements about anything, if at all possible. That simple fact probably made him the most intelligent of the entire Organization.

Zexion might have looked on with a touch of contempt if only because Roxas had no interest in the same sorts of puzzles. The younger Nobody only asked the big questions about the things that scared the rest of them too much to think about. It was something Ienzo would have admired... but Zexion couldn't.

Saix... well, Saix disliked... everyone. Except for Xemnas, of course. He had the _ability_ to be social--he simply preferred not to have to make the effort. Toward anyone. Ever.

Demyx was friendly to pretty much anyone... but Axel had caught him glancing at their newest member with something that could almost be called "longing". He was asked about it once in a while, but cast the questions off. No one needed to know that his musical inspiration soared the longer Roxas was around.

Luxord, as usual, was amused. The odds, the possibilities were always things playing on the man's mind--and with the presence of the Keyblade Master's Nobody... everything became even more of a game of chance. Truth be told, it was a rather enjoyable notion.

Marluxia paid him no mind whatsoever. The boy simply did not matter enough to his plans... and perhaps he paid the price for his chosen ignorance.

Larxene hated. Heart or no heart, it was a palpable _thing_ surrounding her like a second skin. Roxas' presence was not tolerated--and the boy was fine with staying away.

But Axel... Axel was entirely indifferent. At first. He _tried_ to be... but the boy must have broken him. That's all that made sense. He couldn't have been _tricked_, because he knew himself to be far too crafty for that. And yet it hadn't been by sheer physical force... not quite a mental one, either. Granted, the kid's brilliant blue eyes could glare with enough intensity to evaporate a Heartless where it stood, but that hadn't been the culprit either.

Axel was known to be a double-crossing, snide and sarcastic bastard. He wore the title with pride, in fact; it kept him exactly far enough away from everyone to have the perfect vantage point over them all. So... how was it that Roxas had managed to sneak past every last one of his defenses?

Roxas was dangerous. Far more so than his Other--but in vastly different ways.

For this boy was a wild thing that did not belong there, with them. The closer they got to him... the more they... the more they _felt_, and... and that wasn't supposed to be possible.


	18. Tragic

"Tragic" and the general concept of "Tragic" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.

Background: A weird mental image inspired by the song "Without Mythologies" by The Weakerthans. I see the song itself as very... Axel and Roxas. So I kinda played with Axel's point of view a little and... well. Interesting result... though I must say, Axel is determined not to let me understand his thought process. I'm strangely okay with that. And yes, I am obsessed with "wild things". Maybe I'll be able to explain it in another drabble.

Tragic  
by Orin Drake

As above, so too below. It's cold on the surface, colder in the ground. But the coldest place is inside. Makes me sound all poetic and shit.

I told you there were tunnels under the castle, but you didn't believe me. And now that I'm leading you down one, you kinda don't seem to appreciate it much. I might just feel an honest laugh coming along if you admitted you were claustrophobic. Ha, phobic! Phobia, fear... yeah, I didn't think you'd do much more than glare at me for mentioning it.

So we walk a little ways. They're just dirt tunnels, lit by the flame in my hand as we wander a little. They're nothing special, all pretty short and going nowhere. Fitting. But I thought they were cool when I first got here, so I thought maybe you'd think so too. You don't, of course. You just glare. But you follow me anyway.

Suddenly I want to dream again. I mean, I usually kinda miss dreaming a little, because I used to have these _really hot_ ones about this chick with these _legs_... I mean, the dreams were beyond X-rated. So good. But there's just something about these walls, this dark space with you obviously walking closer than you care to admit... I... I don't have a heart, so it doesn't matter. But... it's not really _her_ I'm thinking of anymore. And it ain't exactly X-rated, either. (Not at first, anyway.) And that really kinda freaks me out so I have to think of anything else to get my mind off it.

But it's like you fucking _know_ and you get close enough so I can feel your body heat behind me and it's... really weird. It's like... I don't want to push you away and tell you to stop invading my space or something. It's like I almost... don't mind or...

And I know, I fucking _know_ I hear you--not you as you are now, not the you you ever were or ever will be, but a different you in a different place--say, "True meaning would be dying with you."

I _hear_ it and I don't see your lips move when I glance back and something _painful_ claws through my guts but it doesn't belong there. I want to smile, but I know you'll just look at me like _that_ again and you're a Nobody but you're so fucking _scared_ and so fucking _cold_ at the same time...

_I want to free you._ You're a wild thing, but you're not free. You're caged here, fooled into not seeing the bars closing in around you. I want to wave my hands and scream at you, tell you to go, kick at you until you get scared _enough to leave_.

But... if you left... I don't want to think about that. I'm a Nobody, too. I'm a real bastard, but I can't feel. And I sure as hell can't feel fear for the idea you might actually go, or worry about _loneliness_. That's ridiculous. Moronic. I'm obviously a little smarter than to let myself believe I'm like...

I wonder. I can't ask, but I wonder. Or maybe I know. You don't act like it, but... sometimes I look over, and your eyes... You almost look alive sometimes.

Oh hell no. I'm never saying that shit out loud. That stays as deep inside as I can bury it. Until it fills that empty space. And maybe... maybe...

Heh. Aren't we so fucking tragic.


End file.
